Dear Comrade

I know meeting you was by fate although I do not know what our destiny holds for us. Before we met, being a victim of ‘sexual harassment’ was a shame for me. Silent harassment was always something that disturbed my inner-peace since childhood.

Sometimes when I close my eyes to sleep or the lights go off, the voices in me scream at their loudest, feeling crude hands touching me in private places. I confessed to you, admitting that it is from where I developed Nyctophobia— the fear of darkness.

At times when my eyes are locked on a bare wall, you’ll find my mind hovering, recollecting eerie memories of vicious masculine fingers hushing me, hoarse voices lying that they are only ‘playing games’, that they are only ‘my uncles’, ‘my cousins’ and that they ‘love me dearly’.

To ‘fight sexual harassment’, I did not even know what the term meant as a kid. To ‘voice out’, I did not know but to silently fear men and cry behind closed doors.

This was until you turned my thoughts upside down. You held my virtual hands and promised me you’ll change my perspective about men. You did. You made me believe that a man can actually talk without having to touch a girl, that he can show love and not just lust, can treat her like a woman not just an intimate product.

Thank you for being the dearest Comrade in my life and motivating me to fight the darkness, the fear of venomous hands, the lustful voices of barbarians. Thank you for making me realize that masculinity is gentle, male domination can also be securing and that there’s still hope for men who’d treat women like roses in a world full of hooligans.

You will forever remain the beacon light in my life full of nightmares and darkness, you will always be my dear Comrade.

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Dr.Strange says:



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